


Skin

by GlitterBitch147



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Character Study, Depression, Gen, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-02-09 12:58:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18638602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBitch147/pseuds/GlitterBitch147
Summary: *Mentions of Self Harm*A character study based on an interview with the TUA cast/crew about Luther.





	Skin

**Author's Note:**

> When you get past the shock of seeing Luther’s sheer size onscreen, the suit also contains subtle details like scar tissue, which hint at his rage and shame about his transformed body. “We figured, over time, that Luther would have tried to remove the skin, or patched it with other skin, but it didn’t work,” says Blackman. “He hates the way he looks, and he’s severely depressed about it,” Hopper adds. “In my head, there were times on the moon when Luther thought about ending it all, because he’s so torn up after the accident.”
> 
> Source: https://www.vulture.com/2019/02/the-umbrella-academy-luther-gorilla-body.html

Once he’d really gotten a look at himself, the first thing he’d asked for was a shirt. This proved a more difficult task than he’d thought; Pogo was sent to the store to get him one, because none of his old ones fit. Until he returned, Luther stayed alone in his room. He didn’t want to see anyone. There was a mirror in his room, and he wanted to break it, but instead, he just threw a sheet over it. A week later, he’d remove it completely. He didn’t want it there.

He’d been given a whole new wardrobe. Perhaps this was his father’s odd attempt at an apology. Half the clothes didn’t fit him at all. Most of the rest he still couldn’t bring himself to wear. The neckline would be too low, or the sleeves would slide up when he moved. He only kept about five shirts from the large pile he’d been given. He found an old pair of gloves, and once he put them on, he never wanted to take them off. 

His siblings had long since left the house, so soon there was a towel permanently draped over the bathroom mirror as well. Grace always moved it when she cleaned. Luther never told her to stop, because he worried she’d ask why. He’d always just pick it up and put it back as soon as he noticed it.  
Every once in awhile, though, he didn’t notice it, at least not quickly enough. He’d walk into the small room, catch sight of his reflection, and he felt like he’d get stuck there, standing there and staring and picking himself apart until he was nearly in tears. He was glad no one else stayed in the house. They’d laugh if they saw him like this. Number One, destroyed from the inside out by something so superficial. 

He got in a strange habit he hadn’t meant to start, dragging his nails across the backs of his hands when he was alone inside and his gloves were off. His nails were short, but the skin got irritated and worn down over time, and one day he realized he was doing it because he felt something wet, and when he looked down, he realized he’d scratched right through himself and he was bleeding. Instead of being ashamed over that, he waited hopefully for the skin to grow back. He knew he was wrong, but he hoped the skin would be normal, even if it was still scarred and unsightly. It wasn’t. When he finally accepted that, there felt like there was a weight on his chest so heavy he didn’t breathe for an hour.

He did that several more times, scratching at his skin until it bled, and he was never even sure if it was a conscious decision. It always felt like a surprise when it happened, but he was never disappointed with himself until the skin just added an unsightly scar to everything he already hated. He wondered if he was losing his mind. 

For the longest time, his father didn’t even seem to notice anything different about him. Luther knew he couldn’t explain how he felt to him. His father had saved his life, and he should feel grateful for that, even if it left him miserable. When his father did notice, he brushed it off, telling Luther it was a ridiculous thing to worry about. Luther never brought it up again.

Grace noticed too. She picked up on it more quickly, but Luther shut himself in his room until she left, and he kept doing that for months, until he’d scraped himself up badly enough that she was knocking on his door, sensing he needed first aid. He let her in, and he let her bandage his arm. When she asked what had happened, he just shook his head. He didn’t know what to say to her. He wanted to be alone and he wanted to pull his sleeve back down. She put a hand on his shoulder and told him she loved him, and then she left again. It should’ve helped to hear that, but it didn’t.


End file.
